


i think i lost my halo

by WhatTheHeckIsGoingOn



Series: Fallen from Grace [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dad Thomas, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Injuries, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Other, Secret Identity, Superhero Thomas, Teen Virgil, Villain Virgil, godfathers logan and patton! hey, major miscommunication, thomas is basically virgil's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24165862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheHeckIsGoingOn/pseuds/WhatTheHeckIsGoingOn
Summary: Intimidating the Public as the 'Fallen Angel', Virgil tries hard to keep his secret identity a, well, secret. Trying not to get caught by the police or his counterpart, the 'Prince' when you can't really control your powers is actually much harder than it seems.-Dealing with a rebellious teenage son while running a high tech business, on the other hand-  wasn't much easier. And it certainly wasn't much easier being the resident superhero on top.-Patton and Logan just lean back and watch.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Fallen from Grace [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790350
Comments: 115
Kudos: 201





	1. i will make you believe

Taking another deep breath, Virgil looked down onto the sleeping city.

Regardless of the late hour, it was thriving with life: in the form of late night conversations in front of the tv; all- nighters in cafés; and party folk returning from their night out in the countless bars and clubs.

He let himself fall forward, carried by the wind and landing quietly on his feet as if he hadn't just jumped off a literal skyscraper.

(And that was something, considering it had taken him months to make it seem effortless and non anxiety inducing.)

When he had first came into the picture, the media had dubbed him the _Fallen Angel_. Showing up at night time, not talking to anyone, simply 'falling' from buildings again and again. _Abilities_ weren't common, so even an act as simple as this made people go crazy.

It had been a fun way to deal with his insomnia, never mind great for feeling at ease despite not having anyone to talk about these crazy powers.

It wasn't his fault when the _Prince_ misunderstood their first interaction because Virgil had been feeling snarky that day. And it certainly wasn't his fault when he demolished the hero's statue after that.

...right?

* * *

"Virgil, could you be a darling and go for another coffee run? There's a meeting scheduled in half an hour and Thomas looks like he could need it."

And, true, glancing up from his phone he could see that their boss looked like shit. Granted, he knew that he was the very reason that had prevented him from getting a good night's sleep, because what if something had happened to him, and how he'd been about to call the police because what if he'd gotten-

It had been one of their worse arguments.

"Sure," he shrugged. "Want one too?"

Patton gave him a thankful smile and resumed his work.

As Virgil went to go and grab his jacket, he passed one of the workers watching last night's news report on channel six.

_"The Fallen Angel has been spotted observing the park, possibly checking out the location for a terrorist attack. We're here today with Dolan White, head of the Police Department and leading detective in this investigation regarding-"_

Jesus, he wasn't a goddamn terrorist. The worst he'd done was being involved in the bank robbery a few months back, where he hurt a cop. But he hadn't planned the thing, despite what everyone had thought. He had simply had the stupid idea to scare some people at the same time as two guys trying to rob a bank. It was basic self- defence to use his mind control powers to prevent a cop from shooting him straight with a gun - and his reasons outweighed his methods, right?

He glanced at his dad as he entered the elevator. Slumped on his chair, reading through some files, dark circles under his eyes - Thomas Sanders had seen better days.

Leading a high technology firm with branches in the development of actual high tech _weapons_ (which were luckily not accessible to the public), while being father to the literally worst case of 'fucked up child'- the universe had it's own ways of screwing really good people.

And if he ever were to find out that Virgil was the pain behind many of his greatest inventions, he probably wouldn't hesitate to hand him over to the police and finally be done with him.

Worse, he would probably smile, chattering with _The Prince_ \- Virgil's self-proclaimed enemy and hero of the city. If anyone were to ask him, the only thing the _Prince_ was, was an absolute asshole with a god-complex and superpowers.

"Wait!"

A hand shot in between the closing doors and Logan entered, bearing a gigantic stack of papers that turned out to be blueprints, Virgil realised as he took a closer look.

"Just in time," the man huffed. "Are you going for another coffee run?"

He nodded.

"Patton knows he could make a better use of your presence." Shaking his head, he continued: "Your father implied you might have some knowledge on security- do you?"

Because letting his son play coffee-boy in his corporation wasn't enough. Of course begging Thomas to not tell anyone why he had been kicked out of boarding school wouldn't work - he literally shared it with his _business partner._

"Not really," which was the understatement of the century. He didn't have a clue how he had managed to convince his teacher to give him the solutions to the exam and then just _forget_ about it, leading everyone to believe he had hacked himself into the school system.

Logan was about to reply, but the elevator doors opened and the teen took the opportunity to make a run for it. The man's intense gaze made him feel like he was being questioned by the police.

To his delight, the building was located pretty close to the park he'd visited the previous night, giving Virgil the chance to walk past the scene. Reporters and Onlookers were still crowding the sidewalk, trying to get a good look on something the _Fallen Angel_ could've left behind.

But this display of media and public attention were going to ruin any plan he could've had with a public place of that size. And even though they wouldn't find anything (because he hadn't been up to something, duh), the police would be on high alert throughout the following days.

_"Currently the police-"_

_"-Dan Schneider with-"_

_"- no reasons to suspect foul play."_

At this point all he had to do was walk around a park in order to terrify the public, apparently.

He was glad when he finally bypassed the mass of people and entered the somewhat secluded coffee shop just a few minutes later.

"Hey kid," the barista greeted him.

By now he was recognized when he came into the shop - a given when his father and his closest colleagues were coffee addicts. One might think that _the_ high end technology corporation would have enough money to buy a decent coffee machine.

"Sup." Virgil pulled out the work credit card he'd been given by Patton. "Four of the usual, please."

The barista's eyebrows shot up as he typed the order. "Internship seems fun."

It wasn't really an internship when you were the son (and basically the heir) of the owner, _on top_ of being forced to be there. His father wasn't granting him some work experience or something to put on his resumé, this was keeping him in check and having his employees keep an eye on him.

But he couldn't tell people that.

"Yup."

As he waited for the coffee to be done, the teen mused about what he could do despite the heightened police attention.

It would be dangerous to risk anything. He didn't want to repeat the disaster that had happened in the bank and had left him to learn how to treat a gunshot wound on your own body - experience someone his age probably shouldn't have.

But he also had to take the _Prince_ into consideration. His enemy and good-for-nothing counterpart had become... Quite violent towards him.

When Virgil had first started out on being a supervillain (more of a super vigilante, if he was being honest), he had been fought against with light banter and maybe some punches. Nothing that had left him with bruises so big he had to cover up for weeks, or a twisted ankle that had officially come from falling down the stairs.

The _Prince_ could take him out without much of a hassle, he was sure of that.

"Order for Virgil!"

He picked up the coffee and went on with his day.

* * *

"Thank you."

Thomas watched as Virgil placed the last coffee in front of him, not even looking him in the face. The teen simply nodded and left the room to work on the stack that Patton had given him.

"You both seem tense. Any peculiar reason?"

These days they didn't even need a peculiar reason to avoid each other and tense up whenever they crossed paths eventually. But Logan noticing didn't make it any better.

"I don't know, it's-" he ran a hand through his hair- "last night he didn't come home until morning. And when I tried talking to him, he turned defensive."

"Did you shout?" Patton looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

He had always been the last person Thomas had turned to for advice regarding Virgil, no matter how good they got along. The other man always found a way to focus on _him_ having done something wrong and taking Virgil's side no matter what.

"He told me to leave him alone."

"So you did shout."

Logan sighed and placed his hand comfortingly on his husband's before fixing Thomas with a blank stare. "I am not speaking as your friend, but Virgil's godfather when I say you should properly sit down with him to discuss and work through whatever issues you're having, or else he'll-"

"Don't we have more _pressing_ matters to focus on right now?"

He cringed at his own choice of words, but reminded himself that his friends knew very well that he had tried everything in his power to sit his son down and talk. He'd paid countless of counsellors and therapists to figure out what on earth was going on in his son's life.

But Virgil had shot down every single attempt, somehow managing to provoke a shouting match worse than the previous one each and every time. Thomas had given up for the better.

Logan adjusted his glasses in obvious dismay, but didn't press it further.

"Well, then. _Angel_ hasn't done anything the past month, leading to suspect that he might be planning something bigger, using his park visit as a distraction - if that, of course, is the more pressing matter you're referring to."

Thomas didn't react to the jab and nodded. "Could he be behind us?"

"You think he might be interested in one of the unofficial inventions?" He pondered for a moment. "Our building is the only major thing of interest in the area. A distraction that close could lead the police to deem the surroundings safe due to their heightened surveillance, leaving a small radius of chance. It is possible he could be behind our technology."

"But he doesn't know that we have something of use for him," Patton interrupted.

They went silent as an unspoken thought wavered in the air.

Very few people knew that they were experimenting with weapons against _abilities_ , specifically ones against the _Fallen Angel._ So few people that Thomas could count them on one hand, two of them sitting currently in the room with him.

"It is unlikely that he knows something. But we shouldn't take a risk, especially since we're developing what could be our only chance at capturing him."

Thomas nodded. " _Angel_ hasn't done much _we know of_ , and that's suspicious with his powers. He could be trying to trick us with his vigilante act."

After all, that had been everything he'd thought of him, at first. Destroying some statues of the _Prince_ , vandalising some signs, breaking into museums but not stealing anything - those had been comparably minor offences.

He had started seeing the danger in the man when he attempted to rob a bank with some low-ranking criminals. While the two shot up the bank, killing two people in the process, he had tried getting the money from the safe. At least that was the story the criminals had told the press, pleading 'not guilty' because they claimed to have been mind controlled.

And he probably would've doubted them, hadn't it been for himself seeing the _Fallen Angel_ use his powers to turn a policeman's weapon against himself as he came to interfere as the _Prince._

"I propose upping the security level and giving the police financial aid in identifying him. With public help and enough media attention, we could bring him down."

"Then that's decided."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god, this took me two hours and yet it’s only two thousand words. ugh. 
> 
> please let me know if you liked it because I’ve got so much in store for this and would be very happy about comments or kudos! :)


	2. you will never know

_Turn around._

The woman came to an abrupt halt and turned, obviously confused about her own action when she came to her senses just mere seconds later.

Virgil sipped his coffee, the paperwork he was supposed to be doing for the day already finished. Instead of asking for more, he had settled on practising his abilities. His test objects simply happened to be the employees that had been rude to him.

 _Drop the papers._ At the display of her obedience, he decided to turn it up a bit: _Grab the mug and drop it on the floor._

He watched in amusement as she moved towards the closest table and straight up did what he had told her to do. Immediately, all attention was on her _._

_Now grab one of the shards and-_

"Mrs Bergara, are you alright?" Logan bend down to pick up the shards, placing them in a close trash bin. She looked confused because she had been about to use the shards to-

Virgil had been about to tell her to attack someone.

He felt sick to his stomach.

Standing up quickly, he hurried to his father's office. He managed to sneak past Patton, who had been alerted by the smashing cup, and locked himself in the private bathroom.

Slowly sinking to the floor, he raised his wrist to his mouth and bit down as hard as he dared to, trying to keep himself from screaming. He had been about to use his powers to intentionally hurt someone.

But had he done that?

He couldn't remember actively thinking about giving the order; it had been more like he was watching someone else take over, like google was giving him suggestions and he just rolled with it. He couldn't remember hitting enter.

His breathing turned into deeper and deeper intakes, his head starting to spin. Less and less air was getting into his lungs, he was suffocating surrounded by air, his lungs would give out-

In, out, in, out, in-

_"Hey, hey, hey? Virge, look at me, look at me, okay? His dad was crouched down in front of him, holding his hands and squeezing them every now and then._

_He willed himself to look up. Thomas was nervous, trying to look confident as he gave him a reassuring smile. "Can you breathe with me? Can you do that?"_

_Tears were pricking in his eyes, his head hurt so much - he couldn't even hear him, just saw his lips moving, trying to figure out what he was saying. "I- I can't brea-" His attempt at speaking turned into another chocking sob._

_"It's fine, we got this, okay? Can you hold your breath with me?"_

Virgil took one last deep breath and held it.

* * *

The day had started out great for Thomas despite the three scheduled conferences and the previous day's argument with his two best friends.

The conferences went well, and although he couldn't stand listening to yet another 'entrepreneur' telling him how he could advance his inventions, he stayed in a good mood. On top of that, Logan informed him of setting their plans in motion.

What finally managed to put a damper on his good streak was one of his employees smashing a cup and then starting to cry. At first he had chalked it up to stress, knowing that he set the stakes high and that she had mentioned trouble with her marriage to a co- worker.

But after a while she had calmed down enough to tell him that she hadn't been in control of her body. There had been a voice telling her what to do.

Patton, Logan and him had exchanged a worried glance at this revelation.

Their previous theory, along with not knowing the extends of the _Fallen Angel's_ mind control were concerning. For all they knew, this could've been a way of testing out his abilities from afar. Not only their technology but also his workers were at risk - a risk he definitely wasn't willing to take.

Deeply lost in thought, he barely registered the door to his private bathroom opening and his son stepping out. "Virgil?" he exclaimed surprised. "How long have you been in there?"

The teen simply shrugged, wiping at his face and - had he been crying?

"Are you okay?" he asked with a much more controlled and soft voice, one he usually used when Virgil was down. He was ashamed to admit to himself that he hadn't been using that one much lately, even when he knew there was something going on.

Virgil glared at him, voice quiet and bitter: "Why do you care?"

He set himself in motion before Thomas could even process his hurt, walking past him and shutting the door to the office with more force than necessary.

"What was that about?" Patton entered his office with a stack of papers, setting them down on his desk. "Sign them until tomorrow, they're from the mayor." Returning back to his concerned- godfather- persona, he dug deeper: "Argument?"

"I don't know," he trailed off, "but can you look after him? I'm heading out."

"Do you really think that's a good idea right now?"

Thomas shrugged and went towards the flight of stairs next to the elevator which would lead him up to the roof of the building.

Within seconds, he was wearing his superhero suit: a custom designed white uniform with gold ornaments and a red sash spread across his chest. To cover his eyes, he simply wore a white mask in the same pattern. Logan had been the one vehemently trying to convince him and Patton of a less _bold_ design but had obviously lost.

What he had been able to convince them of, however, was installing a screen into the holes of his mask that would alter his eye every three milliseconds; so if worst came to worst, his iris couldn't be analysed or used against him.

It hadn't been of any use so far, but he would do anything to protect his identity so no one would draw a line between the _Prince_ and Virgil.

When he stepped towards the end of the rooftop, he had to hold his balance to not fall down, as the wind was considerably picking up. The sky was turning darker and faint grumbling could be heard from the distance.

A shout for help alerted him and he let himself fall.

* * *

"Fuck this," Virgil muttered.

Following his dramatic escape from the office, he had to not only realise that he had left his wallet with his tickets at home, but also the very keys he needed to get _into_ said home. Although he could walk for half an hour, he would still have to wait until his father decided to end his night.

The thought of calling either one of his godfathers only briefly crossed his mind - but he put it aside in favour of having decided to dislike them. Just because.

So doing evil had been it.

A public restroom and a very weird encounter with a homeless person later, he was wearing his 'villain outfit', consisting of a pair of stretch jeans, a hoodie that covered his face' lower half, and a mask for his eyes - all in black, of course.

For a brief period after being dubbed _Fallen Angel_ , he had seriously considered adding a pair of wings to his disguise. He had decided against it for the better after videos of him getting stuck on fences and fire escapes turned up on the internet.

Within minutes of jumping between the rooftops and thinking about easy things he could do for the night, he found his target in form of the _Prince_.

The prick was taking selfies with a group of teenage girls, flashing grins and laughing obnoxiously as he did so.

The _Fallen Angel_ let himself drop just metres next to the group, speaking up before he could think of a better phrase: "Didn't know tonight was a meet- and- greet. Did you put that on your Instagram?"

It wasn't like the _Prince_ even _had_ Instagram. That made the joke funny because - why was he even trying to justify his idiot sentence to himself?

The _Prince_ stiffened and turned around, his smile immediately twisting into a hating scowl.

"Even if I did, you'd be the only one uninvited," he said as he assessed the situation. "What was the thing in the park about?"

"Can a guy not go for a walk?"

The other sneered. "Not when it's you."

"Ouch. Talk about having rights."

He watched as the hero motioned for the girls from earlier to go inside the restaurant, him himself moving closer to the _Angel._ He was distancing them from the forming crowd.

"You really think I was planning for a bomb?" Virgil snickered, "I have to admit, you need to be a sick bastard yourself. Do you get off on being praised for being the good guy? Does it feed your ego to have teen girls all over yourself, you-"

Maybe implying that the _Prince_ had perverted intentions hadn't been the wisest thing Virgil could've said to provoke the hero. Taking the hand that suddenly closed around his throat and pressed him against the building, that is.

"Get _out_ of my town, before I make something serious happen to you." A truly terrifying expression had taken its place in the hero's face, eyes burning with hatred under the mask. Had he chosen to use his abilities for evil, he probably would've managed to have the city in his hands by simply having a little chat.

Mistake number two in provoking the _Prince_ : "And what if I don't?"

Pain exploded in the back of his head as he was slammed into the wall with minimal effort. He felt like a ragdoll being thrown around because the owner had gotten bored of it too fast.

He groaned as he opened his eyes, head rolling into a more comfortable position, and pondering whether it was possible to get concussed from this. Maybe it was also the hand constricting his breathing.

"...are we _clear_?"

He might also have internal bleeding, Virgil concluded as he noticed his inability to focus. The prince had been talking to him.

Reporters and police were slowly scooting towards the two of them, lights flashing and people yelling.

Nodding absently, he felt the grip around his neck getting loose.

As his mind began to clear up, he realised that the hero had been talking to an approaching police officer, discussing something about handcuffs. They were thinking of putting _him_ in handcuffs.

_Start coughing. Hard._

The officer leant forward, grasping at his throat as he looked like he was suffocating. Just as predicted, the _Prince_ hurried to check up on him, abandoning the supposedly delirious villain.

Virgil _ran._

* * *

For a few seconds he considered whether he'd been hit by a car. At least, that's what he felt like when he rolled over to grab his phone from the nightstand, only to be greeted with his own face on the black screen.

Did... He have a cut on his face?

Groaning, he slowly got up to assess the damage from the _Prince_ in the mirror. Pushing through the growing pain inside his head, he made his way over to the closet to regard himself in the mirror.

A red gash, right next to his left eye. Just great.

Stepping back, he noticed that he was also still wearing his outfit from the previous night. Okay, so he woke up - at least he didn't die in his sleep. Taking off his hoodie, he met a worse reminder of what had happened: his neck had dark purple and red finger imprints directly on his throat, a perfect grip by a hand clearly visible.

If anyone saw this, they would certainly think that Thomas had laid a hand on him - something he wouldn't want to do to his father. Not to mention, he would know that it hadn't been him, so who _did_ do this to Virgil?

The only solution that came to his mind was putting on a turtleneck and covering up the bruises and cut with concealer, just to be safe. This was going to be a nightmare.

* * *

The car ride with his father didn't differ much from their usual routine, which consisted of silent contemplation, sometimes with the smell of coffee in the air; but _always_ awkward.

What was unusual, however, was the song ending and instead of starting up the next one during 'one hour music nonstop' to cut to the female moderator: _"Following up on last night's show off between the Prince, resident superhero, and the Fallen Angel, previously classified villain, the mayor made a clear announcement to the press this morning:"_

Cheers could be heard from the crowd in the recording as another voice, male this time, spoke up: _"We will no longer accept this villain in our city, terrorizing us and endangering the very good people that live here. The Fallen Angel has been declared a type three threat, and thanks to the gracious donation of Sanders Tech, any means identifying him will be rewarded with a million dollars. We will-"_

Virgil couldn't believe his ears as he stared at the speaker as if it could give him the answers to all the questions in the universe. "You donated?"

Thomas hummed, keeping his eyes on the road. "I thought it was time to interfere, and it's not like we haven't been thinking about it for a while," he glanced at him, "why?"

"Just... Curious."

He was _fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right, this took a while. i just feel like this isn't conveying that thomas actually loves virgil (which... should be expected, given that he is his father).  
> i still can't decide whether to make virgil's parents simply divorced (cause i got tons of jokes in that case) or just kill the mum off (which... sounds very insensitive when you put it that way).
> 
> let me know? give me kudos? leave a comment if you liked this?


	3. i'm so very far from 'fine'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> virgil had his reasons to keep his abilities a secret.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out.

Just remember the breathing techniques Logan has taught you. In on four, hold for five, out for seven.

It isn't that hard, now is it?

He willed himself to face himself in the mirror. He was a mess; hair dishevelled, dark circles under his eyes, his skin in contrast making him look like a Tim Burton character.

Virgil looked more dead than alive - and with how things were going right now, he wished he was the first one.

He had abilities.

Anyone else might be beyond happy to find about this. After all, most of them were great, right?

The city's hero, the _Prince_ , was the best example of it: super strength, flight and super healing. His friends had been jovial with him as he had discovered them, he had told the press. It had been one of the best days of his life.

And maybe it could've been for Virgil too.

But when he had landed in the cold water that night; had come home soaked and more alone that he had ever felt before, the last thing he wanted to feel was happiness. He didn't want to feel happy about a power that had 'saved' him.

The chances of developing an ability were slim as they were; developing one after the age of five, however, were _infinitesimal_. They were so small that even Logan, his father's childhood friend and ability scientist, refused to mention them in his papers with more than a few sentences.

So why did _he_ of all people have to suffer?

And unlike the _Prince_ , he didn't have a support system. He didn't have any friends he could count on; and his parents were to busy hiding their divorce from him to bother them any more.

Checking his reflection once more, he prepared himself for class.

* * *

They were sitting on the couch. His mother on his left, his father on the armchair right next to her, both turned to face him.

He felt like he was little again, being scolded for staying awake for longer than he was allowed to. Or like he was in trouble for something - but he just knew he wasn't.

"Is this about your divorce?"

He would later tell everyone that he had seen it coming for months. That all the late night arguments and sudden amount of paperwork he wasn't allowed to see were dots he had connected; some weird detective spiel he had been invested in.

"I know already, it's cool," he shrugged.

It wasn't _cool_ \- it was by far the worst thing that could be happening right now in addition to getting his powers. Virgil knew they were doing bad - but why couldn't they keep it together for him?

"Oh, Virgil..." his mother grabbed his hands and put them into her lap. "it's not because of you, you know that, right? I read that kids of divorced parents sometimes think that-

"Mum, I said it's _cool_."

He was going to be fine. Kids had their parents break up all the time; people constantly realised they weren't meant for each other; spouses got divorced. 

He'd _deal_ with it.

"We will both still be there for you. Just not in the way we were before." His father exchanged a glance with his mother. "We simply realised that this was not working out for us. We didn't want you to suffer under us trying to hold it together."

 _But I need you both_ , he wanted to reply.

But it wasn't his place to be hurt in this. It was the best decision they could make in this situation, Virgil kept telling himself. It was probably better for them to break up instead of keeping going until they hated each other.

"Thanks... For telling me."

"You can tell us if it's bothering you."

_"I will be fine."_

* * *

"If you need me, I'm just a call away, okay? And if your father suggests pizza for the third time the week, just tell Patton."

Virgil nodded but didn't react to her joke. He couldn't even tell the days apart anymore, never mind really grasp that this was it. Somehow they had gotten from telling him about their divorce to his mother moving out of state to her sister.

She had told him over and over again how she was still going to love him; that this would just be temporary. But his gut told him the opposite.

"Oh, I'm going to miss you so much," she said as she wrapped her arms around him.

In that moment, he tried to take in as much of her as he could, trying to put as much into his memory as it was possible for him. But already in that moment he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep a hold on it. "I can't wait to see you in a few months. You'll like my hometown, trust me."

Right. She had said that it would take some times getting accustomed to her new life. 

A new life without him or his father in it, a little voice added bitterly.

"I'll call as soon as I can," she said as she got into the moving van. "I love you!"

"Love you too."

That night he could hear his father arguing with his godfathers, glass breaking, and then Patton's soft talking.

He drowned all of them out with music.

* * *

Three. Two. One. _Fall._

Within seconds, Virgil gained control of the air around him, feeling it inside his very being. He forced it to build a blanket around him, a sort of flying carpet that should bring him down to the asphalt.

"That was _impressive_ ," someone whistled. "I heard you've been doing this a lot lately but this is different than what I do."

He turned around to see the _Prince_ , the cities greatest hero, standing just metres from him in full armour and bravado. The number of people that would sell their soul just to be this close to their idol was probably bigger than the city had citizens. And he was clapping for _him, Virgil._

"And by what name do you go, shadowling? Or shall I address you with what the people call you?"

" _Fallen Angel_ will do just fine."

The _Prince_ snorted. "Did you come up with that yourself?"

Yeah, okay, the name _sucked_. It wasn't really anything he ever wanted to admit to on his deathbed, just when he was about to reveal his darkest secrets.

But two could play that game. "What about you? How much did you have to pay Disney so they wouldn't sue your for copyright, _Prince_?"

"At least I have a proper outfit, you... _Nightmare._ "

If this was what he had to work with, he wondered how he ever admired the hero. "That was the best you could come up with? _Nightmare_? What are you, five? Also, it serves it's purpose without screaking 'hey, hit me-'" he made flailing motions with his arms- "'I'm a superhero ready to get beat up!'"

"Excuse me?!"

The hero looked absolutely _flabbergasted_. "You are excused."

Unfortunately, the _Prince_ seemed to recover from his shock quickly: "Then tell me _Angel_ , what are your intentions for my city? No offence, but you're not exactly _villainous_ , nor good at heart, it seems."

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy."

"Alright. Take this as your official warning: if you are to take the path of evil, I will not hesitate my powers in the name of good, are we clear?"

Absolutely.

_Not._

* * *

There were many places Virgil would prefer being at right now.

Australia; the Italian Alpes; maybe a guillotine.

Everything seemed better than being stuck in his headmaster's office, being stared down by his maths teacher, the headmaster and his father. If looks could kill, Caesar would have nothing on him.

"I didn't do it," he repeated once more.

"You _hacked_ into the server and into my _private_ computer, of course you did it, you-"

"Let's not finish that sentence," his father interrupted the maths teacher. "I understand that you seem surprised by his sudden improvement - but I know for a fact that my son has no knowledge of that sort." Thomas gave him a warning glance.

So he didn't believe him either. Just great.

"Mr. Sanders, this is not a simple boyish joke, and though the evidence might seem," the headmaster paused, " _unconvincing_ , multiple parents have already uttered their concern for Virgil's possible bad influence."

"What parents? If it's the Smalls, then I can assure you they-"

"It doesn't matter what families have come forward. From tomorrow on, your son's presence in this establishment is no longer favoured."

He watched his father close his mouth and waited for him to open it again, about to threaten to sue for unfair treatment or something like that.

But Thomas kept it shut. Instead, he nodded and stood up, holding out his hand. "Thank you for informing me, I will make sure to find an adequate punishment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, i apologise if this is a bit half- assed. i'd have rather put my hand in acid than read my own writing one more time. 
> 
> also, thanks for the kudos and bookmarks!  
> please give me some feedback if you liked this :D


	4. they're calling for your head and they're calling for your name

"Anything come in lately?" Thomas asked as he sat down with his two closest friends. Although it had been about a week since he'd offered an even higher reward for leads on the _Fallen Angel_ , they stood at the same point as before.

Of course, people had sent in suggestions, people of the same statue and size but all of the leads had turned out to be nothing but coincidences.

"Nope!"

Just what he needed. His biggest worry (apart from his son) unidentified, with powers of unknown extend, roaming the city without anyone having a clue.

At this point, even though he wasn't _violent_ , he was a threat. They had other villains to worry about, not ones that showed up whenever they liked to wreak havoc with something previously _unknown_ about them.

"However," Logan interjected, pushing forward a stack of papers- "IT has managed to finish their first round of testing for the identifying- software. And although they're confident to fix the remaining issues within a week, we are still having troubles with the law, as it is still not determined whether the _Angel's_ actions warrant an invasion of privacy."

Thomas nodded along as he briefly scanned the drafts and explanations. There was certainly something he could do about the warrant, maybe lunch with the mayor or sponsoring something. And maybe he could help out with his reputation as the _Prince._

"Any hints on the incident with Mrs. Bergara was about? Maybe it's worth checking the security footage, or-"

"Negative. She both might have been controlled from afar or from within the same building. We have determined that she hasn't made any phone calls within the previous two hours either. However," Logan gave him a smirk and a self- satisfied expression as he slid over another file- "I have compiled a list of everyone that has ever worked here; researched them and determined their chances of having any relation to the _Fallen Angel_ on a scale of one to ten."

Patton whistled. "So _that's_ what you've been working on! I already though you were trying to propose again after last time when-"

"A _heart attack_ over at the next table is nothing I determined a danger to my well thought through plan, I'll have you know-"

"Guys, matter at hand." He delicately flipped through the file, marvelling at the fact that it was not only rated from on to ten, but also sorted by year, name and on top of that being colour coded. Trust Logan to do something, he will go the extra mile.

But before he could ask him for specific guesses, commotion outside the glass doors of the meeting room caught their attention.

"What in the..." Thomas opened the door as his employees gathered around a screen broadcasting the town hall.

His heart sank as he read the caption on the bottom of the screen:

_Explosion in town hall. Ten people injured. Fallen Angel as the supposed culprit behind the attack. Three people taken hostage._

* * *

No matter how many times he splashed over the white tile, the blood wouldn't come off.

But here he was, trying to wipe them with his hands fully covered with it; sink running and daring to overflow and cause more of the water- blood mixture to drip on the floor.

It wasn't his blood. He had frantically tired to wash it off, the smell only making him feel more nauseous.

He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror. This _guy_ looking at him, mask and face smeared with tears and blood, dirty clothes sticking to him, eyes dead... It couldn't be him.

This just couldn't be the little boy his father had always praised for drawing him pictures; his mother scolded for getting his new clothes dirty; his godparents gushing over.

He was still Virgil... right?

**Tw** **o hours earlier**

Now standing in front of the town hall, he realized that he didn't even have a plan.

The live news ticker had told about an explosion at the conference about the _Fallen Angel,_ people had been injured and apparently there was also a hostage situation going on. And of course people thought it was his doing.

So he'd decided to check it out, maybe offer some help. After all, if someone got hurt in his name _again_ , it wouldn't end well if he ever royally fucked up. He wanted to _annoy_ people, not _kill_ them.

Besides, whomever decided to do this seriously needed some attention- like with a brick being thrown at them. And Virgil was just the right one for that.

But standing there now, sporting his outfit, he wasn't really sure whether he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew. Whenever the _Prince_ did things like these, he just went straight in, handled the situation and gave a press meeting afterwards.

_Prick._

Forcing whatever courage he had, the _Fallen Angel_ entered the building. Which wasn't hard either since the people present were busy screaming insults at him.

Keeping himself in the shadows and entering through the back door to the main room was his best option to go with. Try to avoid cameras and you're good to go.

He cursed silently as the weight of the situation set in right as he watched the two culprits- two men in masks- waved around their guns. This was _serious_ trouble.

But not intervening was not an option, not even _morally._

"It's pretty rude to commit crimes in the name of someone else, don't you think?"

The men turned around, surprise truly covering their faces. "Boss! Finally you're here! What are we supposed to do with the hostages?"

He blanket. Just what the fuck was this about?

"Drop the act, I have nothing to do with this. Who hired you?" While talking, he carefully approached, making sure to keep a close eye on their weapons. He might have powers - but he wasn't willing to figure out whether he was bulletproof as well. That wasn't a common enough ability.

"Sir, you hired us."

"I didn't."

"But you did."

"No, I fucking-" he sighed, close to face palming. This doing anything apart from buying time until someone more skilled came along and dealt with this situation. And although he hated to admit it to himself, the _Prince_ would be able to better than him.

"Guys, let's cut this short. Get out and don't hurt anyone. We all go home and forget this happened, how does that sound?"

A shot rang out.

Flinching, Virgil turned around to see a shaking police officer pointing his weapon at him. "Let- let- HANDS UP WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"

Another shot was fired but this time it wasn't the policeman. Instead, the man slowly lowered his weapon, silently opening his mouth as he sank to his knees.

Only then did Virgil see the spreading patch of blood on his shirt.

Not knowing what to do, and overwhelmed by what had just happened, he stood frozen, watching the man take shaking breaths.

Think.

Think.

_Think for god's sake._

He rushed to him, lowering himself in front of him. This wasn't covered in Logan's emergency talks, nor was it something the school had mentioned for active shooters. So what was he supposed to _do_ when he couldn't help?!

"You're going to be fine, you- you're fine. This is- fine, okay?"

The man's eyes met his; no more fearfulness he had when he had ordered Virgil around. There was no hostility, no anger, just... Acceptance.

And taking another look at the blood spreading, he knew exactly why.

"I'm... I'm here. You will be _fine,_ " he chocked out. "It's okay."

He didn't really know what happened next. In between comforting a dying man, the culprits had started laughing so hard they were clutching at their stomachs.

He must've gotten up and done _something._

Because the next time he was able to grasp an actual thought he was surrounded by police officers aiming guns at him, the two men laying lifelessly on the ground with multiple bullet wounds.

But he wasn't holding a gun.

"HANDS UP!"

Staring at the culprits, he didn't react.

Was it possible for his powers to take over? Had Logan ever said something about that happening to people with abilities?

Maybe it might be like adrenaline in dangerous situations and his abilities had just.. Protected him? A built- in self protection.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched back. Head snapping to the person, he saw an officer without a gun carefully studying him.

"I didn't-" Virgil attempted to speak, his voice sounding foreign to himself.

_They're going to take you in._

He had killed two men. No matter what he was telling himself, no judge would see this as self- defence. He had _actively_ killed two people with his powers.

Virgil had to get out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was NOT where i was going. but now someone's dead, which completely threw me off my plan. the good thing is that this will make it longer (and hopefully more dramatic).
> 
> hope you liked it!


	5. i created this world to feel some control

Arriving at a scene had never been easy for him.

Even after he became a superhero and it turned into somewhat of a second job, it never got easier. Especially when there were people he couldn't help, but it wasn't even really about them. They were dead, and he'd learnt to accept that sometimes there were things he couldn't do anything about. It was the people they left behind.

He just couldn't stomach the thought of one day potentially having to hear Virgil had been in an accident, or that Logan and Patton were hurt. And if this were to happen for real, then they'd end up as nothing more than a simple case in court- if even.

So each and every time, he would feel like he was twenty again, kneeling next to a dying woman with no idea what he was supposed to do. She had been the first person he hadn't been able to save, shot by an officer who should have protected her.

Sitting there as she was dying, he was sure to give up on being a hero. What was the point of pursuing justice when even the people _sworn_ to it wouldn't carry it out? But she had patted his cheek, given him a smile and thanked him. Even when he couldn't help her.

The officer who had shot her had not been seen since that night, assumed to have left the country. And if someone were to ask the _Prince_ , he'd tell them he didn't know anything. Even if they ever found the cop again, the man wouldn't be able to tell his story, Thomas had made sure of that.

Snapping back into the present, he turned back to the DI. "And you're sure _Fallen Angel_ can't be associated with them? No calls, no mails, no...?"

"Sir, we've showed you all the evidence currently available. You have seen the tapes. He seemed against them- why else would he kill them? Besides, he helped Mr. Jacobs."

Of course.

Logan had run him through the basics as they were heading to the scene. What they hadn't known during that time was that the _Fallen Angel_ had turned his ability to kill the culprits.

Up until that point, he might have believed that the villain had done all of this just for publicity, making everyone believe that he was some tragic hero who didn't want to get anyone hurt.

But Thomas knew the look on someone's face when their ability took control.

So what was that guy's deal?

If he truly hadn't planned this attack- then why had he turned up? He wouldn't just waste his time trying to set the record straight; in his experience villains were happy about getting the praise for a crime they didn't do.

With dismay, Thomas had to admit to himself that it was possible for the _Fallen Angel_ to have turned up to potentially _help_ someone.

He thanked the officer and made his way back to the front, where Logan was reassuring Patton. It had never be their thing, being in the middle of things, actually getting to see the gruesome stuff they kept from the press. And he had tried his hardest to spare them from it; hiring Patton for his company and keeping Logan in charge of their research team- officially simply being his business partner.

This was nothing like the old times, back when his powers were for sneaking into concerts and excelling at football. When Logan had ordered him to continuously improve his powers and Patton had kept everyone off their tracks.

Now they had to deal with so much more.

"Any idea where he might've gone?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Some people say they have seen him in the west part of the city. On multiple social media, people claim to have seen him not using his ability to fly, as if he is in shock." Adjusting his glasses, he continued: "Which is understandable but suggest that he hasn't seen a lot of people die in front of him."

"So you're saying he might just have gotten off the right track?"

Logan nodded. "What I am certain about is that we have to figure out his whereabouts, whether he actually intends harm upon others with these powers of his, or not. For his powers to completely take over, he must not be in the right mind to control them. You know how dangerous-" he cut himself off.

But Thomas knew exactly what he had wanted to say:

_You know how dangerous you were._

* * *

Virgil awoke with a start.

In the end, he had taken a shower and had calmed down enough to google how to get rid off the blood stains. And had he been able to think clearly, he would've known that using hydrogen peroxide simply meant applying bleach. Within minutes of scrubbing the tile, it seemed as if nothing had ever happened.

His clothes on the other hand had to get soaked in the tub for a while and he had taken the time it took to take another shower, warm this time. He figured he could simply put them in the washing machine afterwards just to be safe and throw in some of his usual clothing.

Now that he was getting up and closer to his bedroom door, he could hear light conversation from downstairs, meaning that Patton and Logan were most likely over. He'd simply greet them and collect his laundry from the dryer.

"it wouldn't be wise to simply stop fixing the bugs in the programme-"

"But you saw that-"

"We can't _risk it,_ Patton."

The teen coughed, putting all attention on him.

The three adults were seated at the kitchen table, mugs of coffee and many files and papers strewn across the surface. They were still wearing their outfits from yesterday, meaning they had never went to sleep- probably just another all nighter at the office - nothing unusual.

Only problem being them staring at him.

Given his heightened anxiety in light of current events, it was reasonable for him to question whether there _might_ be some blood left on him, right?

Of course he knew that he had cleaned everything off, took two showers, washed his face multiple times and checked himself in the mirror... But there was a _chance_ he might've missed something.

"Hey, morning," his father gave him a weary smile. "You slept good?"

Virgil shrugged. What exactly was he supposed to say?

'Not really, had a guy die on me last night, killed two people and then had a freak out over it. I think I'm in shock, actually. But what about you?'

No.

"Alright. What about you guys? Some security breach or something?"

"Security breach, yeah."

So that was a _lie_. It wasn't really hard to pick up on the shift in the atmosphere, the way the three of them had just frozen for a slight second. But this wasn't his business.

"Cool. I mean- _not cool_ , as in _bad_. You know what I'm just going to-" he rushed out of the room.

Just what was _wrong_ with him?!

The clothes were still warm as he took them out of the dryer and he had to withstand the temptation of climbing into the laundry basket and taking a nap. But if one of the adults looked for him and he was lying next to the _Fallen Angel's_ outfit - he would have some explaining to do.

So he took the basket and jogged up the stairs, avoiding eye contact as he passed the kitchen.

Once his door was shut behind him, he took out everything that belonged to his villain alter- ego and dumped it on the bed. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though the hoodie had turned a little bit lighter which meant that he had used too much bleach.

But buying the exact same hoodie right now was out of the question. Although it was irrational, Virgil was sure that the police would catch him immediately if he did some shopping for the _Angel._

Maybe he'd really bitten off more than he could chew.

So far, being a villain had meant light vandalism, scaring some people and having a good banter session with the _Prince._ Of course there were more dangerous situations, like actual fights, nearly getting caught, nearly getting _shot._

But nothing had ever cost anyone's life. And if these guys at the town hall had been in for more, and he hadn't been there, and had they done it in his name, then maybe more people would have lost their-

He should probably stop thinking about this.

Still holding the hoodie in his hand, something dawned on him.

Though he had washed the clothes, washed himself and cleared his tracks, there was still blood sticking to him. Attached invisibly to his very being.

The officer's death had been on him, and whether or not it had been his powers, he shouldn't have killed the two other men.

Every form of control he'd ever had, _believed_ he had was gone.

And he was completely on his own.

* * *

Only after the two had left his driveway he felt safe enough to let out a relieved breath.

They had spent hours discussing and theorizing what to do and why things were happening, and still hadn't come to a conclusion.

Although they were sure that the _Fallen Angel_ wasn't directly responsible for the deaths, he still was a danger because he couldn't keep his powers under control.

Which led to another question: _Why_ didn't he have his powers under control?

People gained their powers at a young age, some not even realizing they gained them until years later. There were multiple recorded cases of people finding out they were bulletproof at thirty, or that they could withstand high temperatures in a house fire.

But Thomas himself had grown up with the ability to fly, manifesting early in life- as this power usually tended to do. And powers tended to develop together, if multiple ones applied.

Which meant that the _Angel_ must've had his powers for years now.

So then why had he become active only three years ago?

A combination of flight and _mind control_ \- a power that was so _rare_ \- to go unnoticed for years? Unlikely.

The guy must have been in some form of higher ranking business, using his power for his own gain without telling anyone about it.

And maybe tragedy struck, as Patton had phrased it. Something that had thrown him off his rhythm, had made him turn to the dark side as it had nearly drawn Thomas in.

Or maybe they might be overthinking this and everything was just as black and white as they had perceived it from the beginning. Maybe this villain was really nothing more than a villain.

So then why did something feel _off_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i said i'd probably upload this week i didn't mean that it would literally take me a DAY. i am surprised myself.
> 
> you have no idea how long i've stared at the word 'srewn' (strewn) trying to figure out what on earth i meant- google came to my aid on this one. also, i had to figure out how to get rid of lots of blood on clothes, which was fun.
> 
> i decided to give a bit more info on thomas in this chapter, since virgil had an entire chapter with flashbacks.
> 
> i suppose this story will be finished whithin - about two ((maybe three)) weeks, probably less if nothing comes and hits me in the face with a baseball bat in life. so yeah
> 
> thanks for reading!


	6. does it bother anyone else that someone else has your name ?

_"-hasn't been seen for weeks, ever since the attack on the town hall. Even though foul play by the Fallen Angel is not suspected, he is still wanted for double homicide. However, it is currently unknown whether a previously untouched subject will fall into decision making by a judge. We're here today with Dr. Logan Hart, leading researcher of abilities and co-funder of Sanders Tech, to discuss the possibility of a previously untouched subject: self- awareness. Dr. Hart, would you explain further?"_

_"Certainly," adjusting his glasses, Logan began. "Though you are calling it self- awareness as it is known to the public, it is more of an unconscious protective instinct, so to speak. The records on this topic are scarce, due to abilities being oppressed for years; on top of the rarity of powers strong enough to overtake their owner in-"_

_"Not all powers can do that?"_

_"As I was about to say, only type 3 powers, so- called-"_

_"Would you explain the three type model to our viewers, please?"_

_Clearly annoyed but not wanting to upset, he nodded. "Type one refers to what we call 'exoterikós kósmos'_ _, freely translated 'outer world'. Individuals with powers that influence their environment, such as controlling the weather, letting plants grow and having a very disctinct control over animals._

_Type two are 'o ánthropos', human related powers, whether it means self or others. These include for example healing and mind control and reading._

_The last type, type x refers to individuals that master multiple powers, either type one, two or both."_

_Intrigued, the reporter leaned forward, script forgotten. "What type is the Prince?"_

_"Flight fits him into type one, however his strength and healing apply to type two. Mastering three powers, of different types nonetheless, makes him a very strong type x- making him one of fifteen currently alive individuals of that type."_

_"And do you think-"_

Virgil closed the tab to the YouTube livestream, sighing as he leant back against his bedframe. So Logan _did_ know something about this... _Issue_ of his and he wasn't, in fact, finally going crazy.

The downside to it was that he couldn't just outright ask him. He had never shown any particular interest in his studies - or abilities in general - and asking now would be sort of weird. But maybe he could ask Patton whether he had read-

_His research papers._

He jumped off the bed, practically sprinting to the front door. If he could get into their house before they returned from the studio, he could get into his godfathers' study and just find the papers!

But there was a slight doubt in his mind. He hadn't _been_ in Logan's study in years, so he didn't really know whether he still kept physical copies of his works in his house. He was a well- known researcher, surely there must be some security he had to provide to the information within the writings, which meant that it was possible that-

"Are you going somewhere?"

Shit. What was his dad still doing here?

"Didn't you have a meeting today?" Virgil feigned innocence as he continued putting on his shoe, actively searching eye contact as he carefully slipped the keys into his backpack. It was a thing that normally worked with the _Prince_ , why not try to use that on other people?

"Yeah, it got cancelled. I thought we could do something together? Maybe watch some Disney - or something else, totally your call."

"I... Actually had plans. Maybe some other time?"

He watched as his father's smile wavered for a second, just before he replaced it with a more fake one that he usually used on business partners. "That's fine. Do you want me to give you a ride?"

"I'm good."

* * *

Checking his phone, he made sure that his godparents were still in the channel building and not on their way back home. Satisfied, Virgil put it away and headed straight upstairs, where Logan's study was situated.

As a kid, he had spent many days sitting at the foot of one of the giant shelves, colouring in his books and watching Logan as he was working on another book or publication. Those were usually the days when Patton and his dad were on a business trip, sometimes not coming back for a whole two weeks.

His mother had to work overnight at the hospital, so she couldn't look after him during the day.

Not that he minded, Logan gave him his space and always made sure that his needs were catered to.

But looking at the shelves now, suddenly realizing they were not that tall at all, he became aware of just how many years had passed since the last time he had been a kid in there.

After his mum had left, his dad had insisted on hiring a babysitter, putting an end to the solemn times in Logan's office.

He shook his head.

Deciding to just be lucky (and knowing that Logan loved being tidy and having everything sorted out), he started on the right, grabbing a book.

_August 26th 1995_

_The subject is agitated after a previous argument with the team. Against strict advice, he has decided to pursue the relationship._

Scribbled with a black pen, in another handwriting, the bottom read:

_Bets are two weeks._

Virgil couldn't help but snort. He knew that his godparents had been dating since high school but he hadn't known that even then Logan trusted Patton enough to just write into his reports.

Which looked an awful lot like gossip.

As he couldn't find any names or catch any words of interest, he put it back in its place.

He grabbed another folder to the left.

_-leaves to suggest that - although previously undiscussed- abilities are able to overtake their host in cases of high stress, proving the previous hypothesis. However, it is noteworthy that the only subject I can base my research on currently is-_

Bingo.

Not wanting to take any further risks, he slid it in his backpack.

* * *

"And another thank you to Dr. Logan heart. Now Emma Paulson with sports."

"You did amazing," Patton greeted him as he left the stage. "I was thinking of curry for dinner because you managed to _not_ call them stupid!" He gave him a peck on the lips and then intertwined their hands.

And although Logan knew that he was indirectly being scolded for previous behaviour, he couldn't help but feel good after the received praise.

"Thank you, but I think I will take some time to think in my office, I think I might have found a way to figure out-"

Patton was giving him the _look._

"We're going home and having a nice evening, without _powers_ , without _research_ and don't you dare even mention any villains and heroes. Okay?"

If it weren't for him having studied his profession, and having done years of research to know it wasn't true - he might've thought that his husband had some abilities in persuasion. But alas, he was simply a very good talker.

Who happened to be his husband.

He was sure the _Fallen Angel_ could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

After a closer look in the comfort of his own bedroom, Virgil had to realize that the notes and writings he had grabbed were absolutely useless.

Of course they _mentioned_ what he was looking for but some of them were missing, making it an incomprehensive mess.

And it didn't help that at some point, all they were talking about was some guy named Roman.

Roman did this, subject seems that, subject-

Subject.

Roman was a subject in Logan's research.

And Logan was a researcher for _abilities._

Bolting from his bed to the carelessly thrown away folder, Virgil opened it once again on a page he previously deemed useless.

_After taking the three type model into consideration, Roman seems to follow type x, concluded by his powers in flight, strength and healing._

_There are previously no known records on just how many type x are currently active but I will do further investigation in the near future. Noteworthy about Roman's powers is that he seems to be the first individual to combine these three._

"Holy shit!" Virgil said aloud, momentarily forgetting that he wasn't alone.

For a few seconds he waited for a door opening, footsteps or maybe his father shouting for him. But when nothing happened he turned his attention back to the name.

The only person to combine these powers nowadays was the _Prince._

He had just figured out the hero's name.

(But who the fuck names their kid _Roman_?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> of course virgil doesn't know that there is a thing like an ALIAS. 
> 
> this took SO long because it just never sat right, i don't know. and the three type model? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHETHER THAT WAS THE NAME I CHOSE IN THE STORY.  
> but the model's in greek now, and since i don't know any greek, this is provided to you by google translate. the latin translations were lame.  
> it has also come to my attention that i sometimes say POWERS and sometimes its ABILITIES. but according to google they're synonyms so who cares. just wanted to throw that into the room.
> 
> anyway! leave kudos? feedback?   
> thanks for reading !


	7. can't stop thinking about if and when i die

Thomas had been staring at the paper on his desk since he'd arrived at his office. Which had been four hours ago.

Of course he'd considered that this would be the outcome, that no matter what he tried, no matter as who he tried it, it wouldn't get approved.

But this was ridiculous.

Whether or not the _Fallen Angel_ was currently posing a threat that would warrant an _invasion of privacy_ wasn't really a question when the city had given the allowance to arrest _without motive_ just this morning.

Well, if double homicide and second degree murder weren't enough of a motive.

And even though he knew that this was a matter of national security, something that was probably the territory of the FBI or whatever poor underground organization had to do the work of hunting down bad guys with abilities, he still felt like he could've tried harder.

His reputation and connections should give him the possibility to do something that helped people in the long run, right? It didn't really matter whether one person, one _criminal_ , got invaded in the process.

So why did his request for _allowing_ a software that his own company had invented get turned down?

"Didn't even have the guts to talk to me personally," he mumbled to himself as he tossed the latter into the trash.

What wasn't helping his mood either was that he had spent the past week sorting through the files on employees Logan had given him, and had found none of them capable of knowing or _being_ the _Fallen Angel._

In conclusion: he had _nothing_ on him.

Huffing to himself, Thomas stood up. "Let's hope there's some crime."

* * *

Unbeknownst to him, at the very same time, Virgil was just finishing up on his reports for the day. It had taken him longer than usual, too distracted by the previous revelation of the Prince's true first name.

Unfortunately he hadn't found any guy named Roman who had gotten some media attention, neither was he able to remember either of his godparents ever mentioning someone with that name.

So just _who_ was the guy?

"Patton? I'm heading out, I'm getting a migraine." Not exactly a lie.

"I'm not really sure if-"

" _You're okay with this._ "

Okay. He had sworn to not use this power unless it was absolutely necessary.

But using it so that he could get out and let out his frustration surely counted as such. (It just maybe happened to be in the form of property damage but who was he to judge about coping mechanisms?)

* * *

The dispatching officer looked at him with a frown. "Drug manufacturing and Cultivation? You usually come in for worse."

"It was available," the Prince shrugged.

Of course a razzia in some warehouse on the outskirts of the city hadn't been what he was looking for - but sometimes you've got to take what you're given.

"So is there something I could do to assist?"

The policeman shrugged, looking back at the scene. "The scene is cleared, suspects are arrested... You could have a look around. There's just the rest of the team wrapping up on the evidence but I think we'll be done here in about an hour."

"Thank you."

Taking his time, he rounded the side to the entrance, trying to make out anything special about the place that might help. But other than some dead rats, there was nothing he found particularly interesting.

Inside wasn't much better. Covering the entire length of the building on the left were various plants that he couldn't identify, on the right side were shelves lined with packages. He watched in amusement as one officer cursed after having dropped one of them. A blue powder spilled over the floor.

It looked dirty and smelled somewhat like a combination of burnt plastic and cleaning supplies- which strangely reminded him of chem class in high school.

It was his turn to curse as his foot hit another dead rat.

Now that he looked around, he noticed that there were an awful lot of them littering the floor.

Of course the city had a problem with them, hell, he'd probably paid millions in his own warehouses to get professional exterminators get rid off them - but this amount was ridiculous.

Could they have died because of the drugs?

And, true they were foaming at the mouth and even though he was no expert on them, he knew that this did not exactly scream natural causes.

He flinched as he let his gaze drift through the hall and his eyes landed on a figure looking at him through the windows which lead to the roof of the warehouse. A figure that looked unfortunately a lot like the _Fallen Angel_.

"Testing new territories?" Thomas asked as he took a look around.

Many of the officers hadn't even noticed that an unwanted visitor had arrived.

The villain scoffed, and his voice revealed that he truly was the person he thought he was. "I saw a lot of commotion and wanted to check it out. I was kinda hoping for something more... Sinister?"

"You don't find a drug razzia and a warehouse full of them sinister?"

"It's not like I got to see any action, so no, not really."

He turned his head away from Thomas, looking at the people bagging up evidence.

Why someone would turn up to a place that was surrounded by police, people that had him on a literal hit list and could get him hurt really fast, was beyond him.

But maybe he had thought the guy smarter than he was.

"I actually hoped to find you. I wanted to ask about-"

A bang cut him off, both of them now turning to the source of the noise and movement.

The examining team scrambled away as a woman dressed in a dark suit walked out of a door holding a gun.

Her stride was certain, her hold on the weapon not wavering as she stepped over the evidence. It was like a scene straight out of a movie, when the bad guy would make his dramatic appearance before a shooting would take place.

Maybe not the best comparison in the current situation.

"Everyone _out_!" she shouted.

One last glance at the _Fallen Angel_ \- who looked about as confused as he felt - and he decided that the woman was currently posing a much bigger threat.

By now everyone except them had left the warehouse, leaving Thomas as her only target.

"Madam, I'm not sure I know what you might want," he tried.

"Where's the _blått damm_?" She paused about five metres from him, expression still set and the gun pointed at his head.

He wondered whether he'd seen her before, on the news or maybe when going underground for a while; but he couldn't put a finger on it.

"I'm not really sure-"

"The _blue dust_ , you American _idiot_. It wouldn't hurt you to pick up a dictionary once in a millennium. Now tell me: little boxes, two of them, containing a blue powder. Ring any bells?"

She definitely had an accent, that much was for sure. Which excluded the possibility that he had seen her somewhere-

"You're _cool_!" The _Fallen Angel_ said as he lowered himself onto their level, making the woman aware of his presence. He was the definition of unbothered, hands in his hoodie's pockets and looking like he was attending a school play. "Where'd you get the suit? It's a really good fit."

If it weren't for the gun pointed at him, he would probably throw up at the villain flirting with another bad... Woman.

Apparently she was as taken aback as he was and just stared at him, so he decided to use his moment of freedom to take a step forward.

" _Nej_ , you're staying where you are." She panned the gun toward the _Fallen Angel_ , clearly motioning for him to stand next to the _Prince_. "Get over or I will shoot."

Satisfied as he obliged, the woman continued: "Let's try this again: _blått damm_?"

"How about you _drop the gun_?"

Nothing.

Thomas had experienced the _Fallen Angel_ using his powers on someone close to him before, feeling the intensity of the pull of it, feeling the demand. And every time the person they were directed at had followed the instruction, some after slight hesitation as they fought for dominance.

But she just smiled.

_"Drop the gun."_ His voice wavered, sounding as if he was as shocked as he was, probably now settling in his mind what could happen if the woman demanded answers that they couldn't give her.

And along with the villain's, his confidence shrank by the minute. A lot of time had passed since the workers had been chased out of the building- they _must_ have send for backup by now.

"I count to ten and when you still don't tell me, I will shoot."

"Look lady, this-"

"Ten."

Eyes darting around the room, the _Prince_ tried to find something he could do to at least point the gun away from the both of them.

"Nine."

If he grabbed the _Angel_ and pulled him in front of him, he should be able to fly above him and-

"Eight."

But doing that would surely make him a direct target, to just push him in front of a gun so that he could-

"Seven."

But he was a _villain_ so why couldn't he just-

"I don't have time for this. _One_."

She pulled the trigger.

Now, Thomas had been in very few situations that could directly result in his death, having spent nearly two decades living a double life.

He'd been held at gun point before, had been shot before (it had taken Patton the entire night to patch him up) - he'd even made his two best friends his son's godparents just to make sure that he would be taken care of in case something happened to him.

But usually you feel something when you get shot with a bullet.

"As much as I enjoy guys in ridiculous costumes, you seem a bit slow. So I... For fuck's sake, do I need to shoot you again?"

Again?

And _oh god_ , he realized with a start that he wasn't the one that had gotten shot.

The _Fallen Angel_ had gotten in front of him so that the bullet had hit _him_ instead of Thomas. And now he was still trying to walk up to her.

  
Even though he couldn't see the wound from where he was standing, he assumed that it must be bad.

The gun seemed like a small calibre, being fired from not too much of a distance - not to mention that there wasn't any sign of an exist wound.

His enemy had taken a bullet for him.

"Just _leave_ ," he said, the pain evident in his voice.

The woman just smiled, firing another shot at him and- oh god, the man cried out in pain. "Your little powers don't work on me, kid."

The _Prince_ found himself frozen, unable to do anything but watch as the situation unfolded in front of him. Sinking to the floor, the _Angel_ seemed to be examining his wound (or was it two now?), but didn't make any further attempts of getting up.

"You know, I'll just send someone else to look for them. But you two were fun." She walked past them, winking at him before leaving through the door.

His mind was still trying to catch up with the events, silence settling between them.

"Are you okay?" Thomas found himself saying before realizing just how stupid he must sound in this situation. He'd been shot, not dumped by his lover.

Nothing. Then a tentative: "Fuck off."

At least he had some fight in him left, which meant that he would hopefully stay stable for another few minutes or so.

He walked up to him, trying to get a better look at the wound, only to be met with resistance in form of being pushed away unforcefully.

"I'm trying to help you," he said as he held up his hands.

"No, no, _fuck you_ , I'm not in the mood for this." The villain cursed as he tried to get up by pushing himself off the floor.

When Thomas reached out to help him, he got a glare in return.

"You need to go to a hospital."

"And get unmasked, charged for murder I didn't commit and go to jail? Good idea, how about you go to fucking therapy then? I'd rather _bleed out_."

True to his word, the wound that he had been somewhat keeping covered with his hand seemed to ooze onto his pants. By the rate this was going, he _was_ going to bleed out.

"You're hurt!"

"Since when do you _care_ , sir _'let's use my super strength and break his fucking rib'_?!" The man raised an accusing finger at him. "The only reason you're concerned about how I'm freaking doing right now is because that _fucking bullet_ was meant for your damn chest!"

The worst was that he was right.

Had it been for an officer to shoot him, he would've thought that it was just; that he was just paying for all the things he did. But now he had literally saved his life, whether he had wanted to or not in that moment.

"Not so perfect, are you?"

He had nerves to insult him even as he was bleeding out.

"I'm getting you to a hospital."

"I think the _fuck not._ " He scrambled away from him, fixing him with a glare. _"You're going to turn around and tell everyone I escaped. And then you're going to the police department and telling them that all my charges will be dropped, are we clear?_ "

His mind was protesting against his body.

" _Fucking GO, Roman._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shoots virgil (again)* this boi can fit so much trauma. 
> 
> It's fun to write thomas and virgil both being so desperate for drama they just look for trouble. and honestly ,thomas, you've got healing powers, why don't you just use them?
> 
> from here on it's going to get worse for virgil.  
>  give this boy a break.


	8. there is no distraction to mask what is real

There was no way in hell he was going to an emergency room right now.

He knew that he needed it, that the mind control he had done on himself was less effective than on other people- if it even worked at all and wasn't just 'fake it 'til you make it'.

So his only option had been Patton.

Which is where he dragged himself, not even bothering to hide himself from anyone who wanted to take curious pictures that would surely make the news.

And now he was there, on the doorstep of his godfather, misplaced in all the tidiness and calm of the safe neighbourhood - a villain, bleeding and hurt.

Before he could come up with another plan that might involve stupid actions- such as just googling how to remove bullets from his abdomen- he firmly rang the doorbell.

Within a few seconds, the hallway lit up and someone came to the door.

"H-" pausing before he could even finish his sentence, Patton just stared at him, mouth wide open.

Yeah, Virgil didn't have time for that right now.

 _"Help me,"_ he gritted out between his teeth before pushing past the other. "There are- oh, _fuck, I moved too fast, mmh-_ two bullets in me right now, so _please_ get them out."

Somehow putting his confusion aside, he obliged. Rushing to the bathroom, Virgil assumed that he was getting the medical supplies they kept in the guest bathroom

As he was waiting for him to come back, he sat down on one of the dining room chairs, figuring that they were the only piece of furniture that wouldn't be inevitably ruined when he bled on it.

"Can you take your top off, please?"

He watched as Patton spread everything on the table, apparently satisfied with his choice of position.

Not wanting to complicate anything further, he simply followed, the next minutes blurring between the adult talking and _utter pain_ cursing through his body.

Of course he knew that Patton had been to medical school for a few semesters - but he had always been told that he quit because he just couldn't stand people being in pain, and potentially not saving them.

But you don't really stay this good at _removing bullets_ from someone with years of no experience, now do you?

The pain was making him delusional, he concluded. This was _Patton_ he was thinking about, why would he ever be in any situation where his knowledge would be of use?

He closed his eyes.

A hand slapped him hard across the face and Virgil groaned, feeling like he just hit the pavement after being caught up in a washing line. (Not that he had experience.)

"You stay with me. I stitched you up but I still need to give you some form of narcotic because you might hurt yourself when moving too-"

"No, I need to-"

Patton pushed him back forcefully into the mattress rather forcefully and - wait, when had he gotten into a bed?

He was fixing Virgil with a stern look. "If you move any more than necessary, you might bleed out this time. You're lucky the bullets didn't hit any organs, or you might be-" he made a frustrated motion- "not very much alive right now. I thought you _died_ for a few seconds!"

Composing himself and not very oblivious to the villain's confusion, he explained. "This is the spare bedroom. I asked my husband to carry you here while you were passed-"

"Logan is here?!"

His father and Patton might be oblivious (and stupid as fuck for not noticing, a tiny voice added) - but Logan was a whole other story. He'd notice it in his voice, the way he held himself; he'd probably have him figured out within the fracture of a millisecond.

"He...lives here. Let me check, maybe you have a tiny concussion..."

Virgil moved out of the way, effectively letting himself fall back against the bedframe. An unfortunate houseplant happened to be the object of his glare, as if it was the one responsible for al his problems that had led up to this moment.

"I should've just bled out."

It was unfair to say these things to Patton, he knew that. The man had no ideal how to deal with these kind of thoughts, neither when he was Virgil and _especially_ not when he was the _Fallen Angel._

Which is why he knew, without even looking, that he was being given an uncertain smile that was meant to be reassuring.

"I'll check on you in a bit-ty?"

"Just _leave_."

He didn't say thank you.

Because he knew that Patton wouldn't have done this if he hadn't been mind controlled.

* * *

So this was what it was like being mind controlled.

The _Fallen Angel_ was probably being treated somewhere by his accomplices, while he was doing everything to get the charges against mentioned villain dropped.

His mouth was speaking, talking in the same charming and convincing matter he would usually do- even going as far as cracking jokes that Virgil would just roll his eyes at.

But he himself was trapped in his mind, forced to be just _there_ while his body was being taken over.

At first he had been scared.

Even having been mind controlled by his enemy before, none of his previous commands had been that strong, that... Angry. So it was not really consoling to know that this sudden surge in powers was based in fear.

A fearful villain loosing control over his powers - whom he was currently trying to help by having his criminal record deleted.

He just knew that this was going to give him a headache later.

But after getting past his initial shock, after having to listen to himself carry out the demands, Thomas had started to reflect on the entire situation. Analysing everything that had taken place, thinking about everything he could recall of either of the villains saying.

And there was something that had definitely stuck with him: he had been called Roman.

There had been only a number of people who had called him that, even _known_ of that name. And those had been Patton, Logan and his ex-wife - and it wasn't particularly hard to figure out that neither of them could have been it.

So just _who_ had figured out that this was his name? Nickname, rather admittedly, but still hitting the nail too close to the head.

Just when he was starting to consider past classmates, cool air embraced him and he felt that he could feel himself breathing again.

Looking back at the police department, he realised that he had just de-criminated the possibly most dangerous individual in the state.

* * *

The next time Virgil woke up, he was lying on the bed, moonlight shining on the covers. Someone must've put blankets on him when he had fallen asleep- probably Patton.

Remembering Logan's presence in the house, his hands flew to his face to check for his mask, which was luckily still in place.

Although he knew that there was no reason to take off the mask if their suspicions of him being Virgil had already been confirmed. But there was no way they could've figured it out... Right?

Hoping for the best, he carefully pushed himself out of the bed. Whatever pain killers he'd been given, they were doing an amazing job; so amazing in fact, that he nearly toppled over when he realised that the bandages around his waist were not him being caught up in the blanket and about to fall.

He pulled the shirt aside (great, they had his hoodie, he'd have to get a new one now), marvelling at how well- bandaged it looked.

But then again, it was Patton who had gone to medical school, not Virgil who had watched some YouTube videos and surfed on WikiHow, who had stitched him up.

Which is why he trusted the patch-work to do its thing as he jumped.

* * *

"No, no, let me run this through with you two once more-" he turned to his friends- "you let a dangerous criminal stay with you, even _helped_ him when you knew that we'd been involved in a shooting," Thomas stated bluntly.

In his defence, finding out that the people he had intrusted his son's life upon were busy playing 'fix up' with a supervillain was _definitely not_ what he had expected when he had shown up on their door.

"He was hurt," Patton stated as if it would explain everything.

Of course. Trust Patton to let someone- scratch that, actually _treat_ someone who could potentially order him to kill himself.

"Thomas, don't try to put him to blame for helping someone. If I may remind you, you were the one who told the police just mere hours ago to drop their charges." Logan halted. "But judging by your reaction to our actions I have evidence to suggest you were mind controlled. My apologies- it was a long evening for all of us."

"No _shit._ "

He sighed, realizing that being sassy at them wouldn't change anything that had happened. And it certainly help dealing with what was about to come.

"You came here with the intention of telling us something," Logan reminded him.

Of course. He had wanted to warn them, maybe figure out someone that could have been close to any of them during their earlier years who somehow might've figured out a connection between Thomas and the _Prince_.

"He called me Roman."

"Roman? As in your nickname?"

"Yes, _as in my nickname_ that you guys came up in high school that no one is supposed to know _about_. So how did _he_ know it?"

Logan took in a sharp intake of breath, staring at him as if he'd just told him that all his research on abilities had been wrong, _or worse_ : that someone had plagiarized it.

But in the end, all he settled for was: "He broke into my office."

"Pardon me?"

"The- I noticed a file missing but I just-" he was frantically adjusting his glasses now, pacing the living room. "It is one from university, I thought I had _misplaced_ it but- I still called you _Roman_ in it."

"He knows where we live. Which is why he came here."

"But how would he know that- _Virgil_." Panicked, Thomas realized that he hadn't heard anything from his son since he had driven them both to the office that morning.

If the _Fallen Angel_ had the addresses of his closest employees, he surely knew his. And he had been the one to put a million dollar on his head.

"Our security system didn't register a break in."

They slowly turned to Patton, clutching at his mug and staring into place before reluctantly looking up at them. "I checked it last week, there wasn't anything. If he broke in then he has a... Call Virgil immediately."

The only keys to their house were theirs and Thomas' spare key that he kept in his own house.

Fishing out his phone, he dialed his son's number, already thinking about where to place him so that he would be safe.

He watched Patton grab his Laptop, and Logan giving him the password to log into their security footage.

The line continued to ring but no one picked up. He was about to shoot Virgil a concerned text when Patton gasped.

"Thomas... You should see this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at first i had virgil staying with them for days but then i was like: thomas would freaking notice, idiot. (btw, i write these notes before actually finishing the chapter and then i just add, so i actually have no idea what i did- will do.)  
> let's just say the fight and the whole 'dragging himself to patton' thing took a few hours and somehow it's dark outside all of a sudden- bare with me. It made more sense for the description.
> 
> sorry if the ending feels a bit rushed, i just forgot how to do conversation and suspense.  
> i think there's about one chapter to go, two if i'm being an asshole.
> 
> your kudos and comments keep me motivated, so please do continue them! :)


	9. sometimes, quiet is violent

Darth Dad is calling.

Virgil stared at the phone screen as his phone rang yet another time. Pondering for a small second, he finally declined the call. Whatever pain medicine Patton had given him was wearing off and he wasn't entirely sure that he could force his voice to stay stable long enough.

It was probably just about dinner anyways.

He had somehow made it home in one piece, relieved to find out that none of his wounds had reopened. But just to make sure (and remembering his WikiHow education) he had changed the bandages, throwing the old ones directly in the trash.

Some part of him wanted to just set them on fire, but then again, he wasn't really the type for arson. (And with what was going down currently, he didn't even want to add that to his list.)

Now all he had to do was pretend. Somehow get through work without showing any obvious signs; and convince his family that he wasn't wounded and had been, in fact, probably near death at some point.

Not to mention that he would have to remain neutral when Patton and Logan would inevitably call the police on his encounter with them.

He could do that.

(And if it was going to hurt him, it didn't matter, right?)

A nagging voice kept telling him that he had revealed too much, that no matter how hard he would try to cover his tracks- they'd find out.

If Patton just thought about the encounter more closely, he would probably notice that something was off. Not to mention that if he had any sort of slip up at work, his godfather would without doubt recognize the wound.

He couldn't hide it forever.

The wound would definitely scar - so what was he supposed to say at the doctor's office? The pool? Whenever he undressed in front of someone else?

And there was another problem that he had to face: the news.

His plan of forcing the Prince to convince the police had not only worked, it had went beyond what he had wanted: they had not only dropped their charges but had also cleared his entire criminal record.

Which again brought media attention.

By now they had all figured out that the hero wouldn't have done this in his own name, that he had most likely been mind controlled. But what no one really knew was as to why the police had obliged to his request in the first place.

The Prince was an avid and convincing speaker, that much was for sure, but there were limits. And those were miles from what he had done.

Pictures of the Fallen Angel dragging himself through the city, bloody and hours later in a simply shirt instead of his trademark hoodie were making the news.

Conspiracy theories of him being involved in some form of drug scandal were trending on various social media, no doubt fired by the location of him having been shot.

Virgil finally turned down his phone for good, figuring that if his father or anyone else really wanted something from him, they'd have to call the landline.

He poured himself another glass of water as he sat down at the dinner table, staring onto space as the world seemed to grow even more silent around him.

Just what had he done to warrant this happening to him?

He had never told anyone the truth about discovering his powers; or what he had done with them shortly after he had found out about them.

No matter how many times his father had tried to tell him, no matter how many times his therapist assured him, he knew there was a reason he had never heard from his mother again.

That there was a reason why his father just... Stopped caring about him.

He had told them to and they had followed.

"Shit," he cursed half-heartedly as he felt the headache coming. There was a reason he had avoided thinking about his own fault in things when he had started being a villain three years ago.

Because it didn't matter why he did things, or just how much control he had had in a situation.

What mattered was the outcome that had resulted in his failure.

He had only himself to blame.

* * *

There was no doubt to it.

This was Virgil on the tape.

Virgil entering the house and going straight to the office. Him searching through the files. Him putting one into his backpack and leaving immediately.

"I can't believe this," he whispered.

But he knew that what he was seeing was real, the high resolution that he himself had made his company known for taunting him, the security system he had designed confirming what was already in front of his eyes.

"He's so close to us that he fucking- he even got Virgil controlled, I mean-" exhaling sharply, he tried to relax his shoulders.

So not only did the Fallen Angel know Patton and Logan's address, had somehow managed to mind control one of his employees - he had forced Virgil to get him confidential files.

Maybe this was some petty revenge on Thomas' putting a million dollars on his head and the villain had found even more that he could use.

"We still don't know the true extends of his ability, it is possible that he can control someone from afar and we just don't-"

"No! I mean-" his hands wavered in the air- "I saw him, in the fight with the lady that shot him. I think he needs to be close\- physically- to control someone."

And it made sense, didn't it?

The reason that it hadn't worked on that mystery woman was because he'd just been too far away, so that must mean there was a certain radius in which his powers worked.

"We can't know if that's true, Thomas, we should ask Virgil if there-"

A terrible thought came to his mind. "What if he knows I'm the Prince?"

Calling him Roman, somehow targeting Logan's study, using his son to get the files he wanted after playing puppeteer with one of his employees- those couldn't be coincidences.

Looking back up at his friends, his question was met with desperation and worry. After all, they had their reasons for keeping all of this a secret- even from Virgil.

"Let's check on Virgil, okay? He's involved in this now, I think we should tell him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as i said, i'm a fucking asshole. (just kidding, i just couldn't stand the thought of this having NINE chapters- what a terrible number). next chapter will have the feels, the dramatic reveal and just the full extend of their miscommunication. it... will also be longer, most likely.
> 
> would you like me to continue this series in another work? where the gang has to sort through the trauma they probably have to deal with and the nice dutch lady that brought them into the situation in the first place?   
> tell me in the comments!
> 
> i am completely overwhelmed with the positive responses to this, so please keep giving me kudos and leaving comments! have a good day :)


	10. what have i become? i'm sorry.

Walking into the living room, the first thing he noticed was the lack of lighting, the room only dipped into the soft glow of the streetlights.

And there, slumped over the dining table, back turned to them, was Virgil. He didn't react when Logan shut the front door after himself, only his shoulders rising and falling as he was breathing.

"Virge?" Thomas called out tentatively.

The teen slowly lifted his head and turned to him, looking like he'd cried.

Immediately, he found himself walking over to him and crouched down so that they were on eye level. "Are you okay?"

For a moment he seemed to hesitate but then shook his head. "I... Did something bad."

"It's okay, I know."

He reached out to hug him and was surprised just how easily his son was coaxed into the motion, practically throwing himself into his arms. Then Virgil started shaking, hugging him closer as if he was afraid that he was going to leave him.

It must have taken a toll on him to realise that he had given the villain access to something that important, that the villain could probably use it for bad.

He knew that it was all over the news, the _Fallen Angel_ looking already better only a few hours after a shooting, a few hours after the news reports on him being obviously injured. Not to mention that he had mind controlled Thomas, or the _Prince_ as Virgil knew him, so that all charges against him had been dropped.

"It's not your fault," Patton spoke up from behind Thomas.

By now Virgil had slightly calmed down, occasionally sniffling a bit but still hugging him back tightly.

He was just glad that the villain hadn't come to him after his recovery, that he hadn't taken revenge on his son in any form.

"Yes it is." He freed himself from his hug and carefully stood up, wincing shortly before collecting himself again. "I should've _told_ you from the start. But now-" he made a gesture around the room before letting his arms drop to his side- "I- I didn't know."

"It's okay. You were mind controlled. We know that you didn't mean to steal the files."

* * *

Wait what?

They had pieced it together, they knew that he _had_ meant to steal the files, unless- they weren't here to confront him about that.

"What are you talking about?"

"The _Fallen Angel_ ," Logan clarified. "We are aware that he has managed to convince you to break into our house and steal my files on the _Prince_. And as the both of them already said, it is 'okay' that you didn't make us aware of it. Although I must say that it would have been-" he stopped talking as he took in Patton's glare.

No, no, no, no.

This was not how this was supposed to go.

But had they really come to the conclusion that he had mind controlled himself?

"You don't know."

Of course they didn't. For them, the _Fallen Angel_ and Virgil were still two different people. They hadn't come here to talk with him about that, which meant that-

"We do. And we're here to tell you something important."

Just what could be more important than this?

He had just apologized for being the _worst_ person he could imagine himself ever becoming, had been finally ready to see the hatred and disgust in the faces of the very people he called his family- and they wanted to tell him something _more important_?

"I think you should sit down for this."

He looked up at his dad. No, this wasn't his dad- this was _Thomas Sanders_ , businessman and great opponent of the _Fallen Angel_. The CEO who had declared to invent various things in order to hunt the villain down.

"I can stand very well," he gritted out, suddenly feeling nauseous.

His wounds begged to differ, feeling like someone had reached below the bandages and was now slowly pressing on the wound just to taunt him. But he couldn't give them hints, not when he knew that they weren't even suspecting anything (and he was not going to make them suspicious).

He'd just roll with them thinking that he had been mind controlled, effectively distancing himself from... Himself.

"Alright. So, now that you're-" Thomas pondered- "involved, there is something we have kept from you, from everyone. I really don't know how to tell you this." He was looking directly at him now. "I am the _Prince_."

* * *

Virgil just stared at him.

Exchanging a look with Patton, who had the audacity to just shrug and give him a 'go on' motion, he decided to clarify. "I know this must come as a shock to you. But I have abilities- which I use to protect the city from evil."

He sounded so stupid right now. "As the _Prince_."

Not looking like he was taking it well- or if he was capable of any reaction right now- Thomas chalked it up to him being shocked at the revelation. And he would be too, probably.

"No," Virgil finally whispered out, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I know this is-"

"No," his breathing was hitching up, voice pitching higher. "All this- _all this time_?!"

So maybe he had judged the situation wrong. Maybe it hadn't been the best moment to tell his son about his secret identity, right after being mind controlled for the first time.

But he didn't look like he was shocked. He looked downright furious.

"It's not like we didn't trust you to tell you earlier, it's just that we were trying to protect you from my enemies and-"

"Protect me?!" he let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head even more. "Do you- do you have _any_ idea what I've been through?"

So this was what the therapist had suggested: that Virgil simply felt left out.

He was supposed to react calmly and present himself as someone trustworthy, he could do that.

"I understand that you're upset."

His son laughed. "Upset? You don't even _fucking know_."

* * *

So his father had had abilities all this time?

And hadn't thought it necessary to _just tell him_?!

"Language," Patton interjected. "I think we all need to calm down, I don't like the way this is turning out."

Yeah, neither did he.

It's almost as if getting told that your father is literally sitting in the same boat as him - had been for the past years- just now telling him that he also had abilities was something that didn't feel _so good_ after thinking you were on your own.

"Virgil, you must understand that we didn't tell you because we wanted you to have a comparably normal life. Having someone with abilities in it- in Thomas case _having_ them- turns things 'up-site down', as they say."

He stared at Logan for a few seconds, pondering just how much sass would get him in trouble. "No shit."

But then the weight of the situation came back into his focus; and he chuckled once more, not feeling like he wanted to laugh at all.

There was just _so much_ that could've been avoided. So many nights that he could've spent _learning_ about his powers instead of spending them on rooftops, wishing that for once he couldn't fly.

"Fuck you," he finally said.

When none of them reacted, he continued. "I _could've_ had a _normal_ life, if you had just _told me_ , don't you get that?! Has that crossed your mind before?!"

"You were too young to be told such an important thing." Thomas voice was getting louder as well, slowly starting to grow frustrated, but for different reasons.

"Too young? But I was old enough to have you and mum argue every night? Have kids whispering about me in the hallway? Be forced to take Zoloft and whatnot?"

"What does the divorce have to do with this?"

"EVERYTHING!" he screamed.

Then he gasped, the wound on his abdomen aggravated by the sudden muscle tension. "While you were _busy_ realising that you had _fucked up_ your marriage and _apparently_ were _fighting crime_ \- I tried _killing myself_. And low and be-fucking- _hold_ , I realise that I can _fly_." He spat out the words, suddenly spilling everything that he had never had the chance to tell anyone. "But I guess you were to busy to notice that little detail, weren't you?"

His father looked like he was about to get sick. Eyes widened in shock, mouth agape and completely frozen in his motion.

And some small, vile part of him was enjoying the sight, justifying it and telling him that this was what he deserved.

"I learnt that I had fucking powers and thought that there was _no one_ who understood me. And now, _three goddamn years_ later, you tell me that _you_ , my _own father_ , have-" he gulped, failing miserably at keeping his voice steady. "I would've needed you _then_ , but you weren't there for me."

* * *

Virgil had tried to kill himself. And he had powers.

How... Had he not noticed this?

Slowly, things started to make sense, having been there for him to be pieced together for years now. The sneaking out, the failing attendance at school, his outbursts.  
The way he had recoiled for them after they had told him they were divorcing, somehow convincing them that he was _just fine_. But just why had he believed him?

"No," he whispered, right as Patton took a sharp intake of breath followed by an 'Oh'.

He turned to him in hopes of finding any clue on how to react to this. But Patton looked like he had just figured out something completely different.

"It makes sense," he muttered, eyes roaming up and down Virgil's body before settling on his face. Then, he stepped past Thomas, looking like he was unsure whether or not to reach out to his godson.

"You're him, aren't you. You're the same person."

Who?

Now nothing made sense anymore. There was just too much information being dumped on him to form any coherent thought that would help him catch up with whatever was going on.

He looked back at his son, who was nodding slowly.

And then, as if something inside him had snapped, his defence and aggressive stance dropped; slumping into himself and starting to cry. "I-I didn't know, I-"

When Patton reached out to hug him, he flinched back, recoiling as if he had just been hit.

It just didn't make sense.

"What's going on?" No answer. "Guys?"

Logan cleared his throat. "If it is what I think then... I agree with Patton's earlier exclamation." He cleared his throat, "You are the _Fallen Angel_."

No.

No, no, no, no, no, this couldn't be right.

Unlike before, his mind couldn't accept the pieces that started to fit together now, even better than they had before. Jotting into place, taunting him, laughing at him.

(It made sense, didn't it? The time the villain had turned up, the way he acted, held himself, the way he spoke.)

That's why Mrs. Bergara had been controlled to make a foo of herself- she had been the one to give him ridiculous tasks.

That's why he'd known to look in Logan's study for information.

How he'd known about the loopholes in Sanders Tech whenever he broke into somewhere.

All this time, his enemy had been right in front of him, telling him he loved him.

And he had fought him.

* * *

They were all staring at him.

Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut for once? Keep himself in control for _once_ in his life, instead of screwing things up?

Because now he truly was alone. Crying, trying to put as little pressure on his wound as he could, every breath he took feeling like he was suffocating and drowning at the very same time. The empty promise of killing him slowly, when he felt like he'd passed away long ago.

"I'm sorry."

His own voice sounded foreign to him, a voice that was nothing more than a whimper. There was none of the confidence he'd built up for his villain alter ago left, seemingly swept along with the secret of his identity.

No matter how many times he had imagined telling them, how many times he had ridden himself into a panic attack when he was rehearsing in front of the mirror- there was nothing that could've prepared him for the way he was feeling right now. For the way they were staring at him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"No."

His eyes snapped up to his father. He was just standing there, looking as neutral as the _Prin-_ as neutral as he did _as_ the _Prince_. Because he was the same man he'd been fighting against for three years now, the man that despised his very being.

His father. Who probably didn't care just what form he took anymore- because did it matter?

Virgil let his head drop, eyes fixated on the carpet. So this was it.

He didn't want to look into the eyes of the man who had raised him, about to yell at him, about to hand him over to the police and never see him again except on the newspaper article that would state his capture.

He just wanted it to be over.

Which is why he tensed when arms wound around him and pressed him against his father's body.

"I'm the one who should be- you're... I am _so sorry._ "

Now it was his turn to be confused.

Shouldn't he be yelling? Fighting him? Doing everything his worst- case scenarios had prepared him for?

"But I did bad things," he muttered, not sure whether the pain from his wounds had maybe knocked him out for good.

"Because you didn't know better."

He was pushed away slightly so that he was forced to look into his dad's eyes. "We'll figure it out together, okay?"

And maybe it was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this wraps it up! *throws laptop in the trash*  
> i cannot believe this took me only a month (and that i managed to stay focused on it for so long- it's longer than my thesis paper.)
> 
> you can take my word when i say i was literally ACTING this scene out loud when i was writing it. i might've cried. a lot. 
> 
> thank you guys SO MUCH for your support on this one, the kudos, seeing the hit numbers go up, reading all of your comments- it means SO much to me, so thank you.  
> and maybe hang around for the sequel! i will begin writing it in no time. so if you liked this, maybe keep an eye open!  
> maybe tell me things i could work on, too. like the dialogue, or the timing in the sentences.
> 
> again, a HUGE thank you to you all!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Fading Light of Heaven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419330) by [Littleladynightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleladynightshade/pseuds/Littleladynightshade)




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